“We had 30 minutes to get out.”
Rachel Lehmann-Ware, a Year 6 teacher and whole-school primary science coordinator at the British School of Ukraine (BISU) in Kyiv, had spent the first weekend of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine under curfew at her school’s campus: “It has a good basement,” she notes.
But on that first Monday of the war [28 February], the decision was made to leave the city and get as far West as possible.
The plan was to drive, but it soon became clear this was not possible: “We were told, ‘It’s too dangerous - Russians have been targeting the roads’.”
The alternative, then, was a train - which left in thirty minutes: “It was literally a case of grabbing everything and running down to the car park, and then [our driver] screaming through the streets to Kyiv to get us to the train station.”
From there, it was an 18-hour train journey - “on one of those really, really old Soviet-era trains” - across Ukraine to a city on the Romanian border, which, for now at least, is home.
The plight of local staff
Many of the other international staff and families have undertaken similar escapes - to Greece, Germany, Kenya, Poland and more. But for many at the school, leaving is not an option - not least for the local male staff, who, if aged 18-60, have to stay to fight in the army.
Lehmann-Ware says she knows many staff were off to sign-up the moment their school obligations ended.
“I know for a fact that some of our security guards, who were protecting us, were having to go and sign up for the military after they dropped us off. Whether or not we ever see them again...”
She continues: “My greatest hope, and I know one of David [Cole, principal of BISU] and my husband Duncan’s [a science teacher and assistant head of secondary at the school] greatest hopes, is that one day we get the opportunity to thank them and give them a hug.”
For female staff, the opportunity to escape is possible, though, and Lehmann-Ware says finding out one local teacher had made it out of the country was a huge relief.
“I just found out today [4 March] that one of my assistant teachers, who I hadn’t heard from since Friday and I was completely freaking out about, made it to Warsaw, which is amazing.”
Sadly, though, many more remain trapped in the country.
“We’ve got quite a few of our assistant teachers still in Kyiv... one of my assistant teachers is in Kyiv [and] her family’s village has been obliterated. You can imagine it’s been really tough for them.”
The plight of these local staff at BISU - and its sister school in Dnipro - is being raised in powerful places, with Liz Saville Roberts MP raising the issues in the House of Commons when she asked Boris Johnson to broaden the refugee scheme to give them safe access to the country.
“173 Ukrainian colleagues from that school are stuck in Kyiv and Dnipro, and ineligible for the Home Office’s humanitarian sponsorship pathway due to the school being domiciled in Ukraine,” she stated. ”Our neighbours in Ireland have waived all visa requirements for three years. Why will the prime minister not allow us to provide the same humanitarian welcome?”
BISU is also a Council of British International Schools (COBIS) Member School and Colin Bell, CEO of COBIS, has written to the prime minister urging more to be done to help the local staff at the school receive a safe passage.
In the letter, seen by Tes, Bell writes: “COBIS has significant concern for the 700 children enrolled in the school, and for the staff, not just the UK nationals who have a safe haven, but the many Ukrainian staff of this British School who may now need asylum and a place of safety - in the obvious ‘home’ for them, the UK.
“Therefore, in relation to the British government’s humanitarian pathway, please can you give assurance that no barrier will be put in their way to enter the UK.”
No action on this appears forthcoming - but Lehmann-Ware says the fact this was raised in the Commons was a “powerful” moment for staff.
“I’ve messaged some of our Ukrainian staff and they were amazed by that - that our school would go to that length and lobby for them - some of them were in disbelief.”
Across Europe, though, the international school community has stepped in to help those fleeing the situation.
One being Frankfurt International School, where Dr Paul Fochtman, head of school, said it had taken in three students from Kyiv - and two from Moscow - who had left their international schools.
The British School of Bucharest has also offered to house staff from BISU with one Ukrainian assistant teacher and her 11-year-old son already set to receive help.
Meanwhile Liz Free, CEO and director at International School Rheintal (ISR) in Switzerland, says her school is also looking to do what it can, such as creating possible scholarships for displaced students to attend the school.
She is also helping by preparing to welcome a Ukrainian teacher, her two adult children, and her 16-year-old son to stay with them at her family house later this week.
“It is a chaotic and desperate situation for people - so whatever we can do to help as the international school community is vital.”
Providing normality as best as possible
However, while many students are now navigating new schools, for many others at BISU, school life carries on as best it can.
“You might be in Germany, Spain, you might be in Nairobi or the UK [but] it’s still business as usual, so let’s get cracking. Let’s do our math. Let’s do our science. Let’s do our English,” says Lehmann-Ware.
This, she says, is key: “We’re still providing a great level of education for these children, which is what we do. That normality...it’s essential in times like these.”
Of course, doing this has meant switching back to remote schooling and - in a way no one could have foreseen - has meant much of the learnings of the pandemic have come back into full effect.
“Students are used to online learning from the pandemic so, in a way, that even brings some sort of normality to what they know. Now, of course, there’s the added component of a war going on.”
All of this means homework is being set, assemblies are being hosted online with work being shown off, exams are being studied for - and standards are being upheld.
“One of my children didn’t have his camera on, which is our rule,” Lehmann-Ware recalls about an online lesson.
“And the other teacher who had been taking over from me said ‘put your camera on’. And you just heard: ‘Mum… Miss Rachel’s here… my uniform!’ and he just appeared with his shirt up here [she gestures a shirt askew and hurriedly being put on], his tie in his mouth and saying ‘Oh my God I’m not dressed’.”
“And I said, ‘you get away with it for today but next time you better have it!’”
Lehmann-Ware is quick to add that the rules are not being enforced to the point where there is a lack of appreciation or empathy for the reality these children face, but, again, it is about creating a sense of school being a solid continuation in their life.
“We know some children had to flee and they didn’t take the uniform […] but once they’re settled in, it’s about saying ‘get yourself a little white button-up shirt, get yourself a little tie, it can be blue and yellow’. Again, it’s about that normality of having to put a uniform on.”
Welcome respite but no escaping reality
This seems to be having the desired effect with the pupils all showing up and doing the work and lots of chatting and engagement across lessons and assemblies, says, Lehmann-Ware - and the parents have appreciated this too.
“There is very much a sense of gratitude from the school community for us for being able to provide this… that there is now a complete virtual school from early years right the way through,” she says.
“I even had an email from a parent saying, ‘I’m so sorry, [my child] is not going to be an online learning today, we’re still travelling’. For a parent to know education is still being provided and not want their child to miss out, that’s fantastic.”
Yet, for all this push for normality, Lehmann-Ware admits there have been sobering reminders that what staff, parents and children at the school have been through is something truly terrifying.
“I think one of the things that really brought it home to me was, when I joined an online lesson for the first time since last Thursday, with some of my students who I would normally have, one of my girls said: ‘Miss Rachel, you’re here. We haven’t seen you, we were so scared that you had been killed’.
“This is a 10-year-old girl. What 10-year-old child should ever have that as a concern - that they hadn’t seen the teacher and thought their teacher might have been killed.”
It’s a story that gets to the heart of unfolding human tragedy in Ukraine - and why the efforts of staff at BISU, to do whatever they can for their community, is so powerful, because, for these children and their parents, what they have experienced was something almost unthinkable just weeks ago.
‘We will be back’
For Lehmann-Ware, an Australian who has previously worked in international schools in El Salvador and Qatar, the situation has caused her and her husband to take stock and finally look to get back home.
“We’re going to finally go back to Australia for the first time in three years because of Covid.”
This doesn’t mean turning her back on her job or the school though: “We’re going to be doing online learning - the time difference will be interesting...I think it will be from like midnight until 7am but so what, it doesn’t matter, we’re going to do it.”
What’s more, she says that she, her husband and all the other staff at BISU are already looking to a time when - not if - they can get back to the country, the city and the school and do whatever is required to help Ukraine.
“All of us agree that, when this is over and whatever state Ukraine is in, we will all be back and we will rebuild this country, and, if needed, rebuild the school,” she says.
“Even if that means we’re there helping to build it stone by stone, we will be there as part of that building rebuilding process - we’re all very determined to do that.”
